"Say, M'sieu Black," said Dave, lingering after the others had turned toward camp, and speaking in a dreadful whisper very close to Mr. Black's ear. "Ah'm good frien' to you. Eet ees ver' bad, Ah'm tole (here Dave's black eye glittered humorously), to broke dose game law; but eef you ees weesh for hide you'self, me, Ah'm show you som' pooty good plass. Dose game ward' hunt for feefty year biffore she ees fin' dose ol' Pete Black. Hey, Pete? You lak for hide on yourself?"
"Thank you, Dave," returned Mr. Black, "but I guess I'd better take my medicine like a man—a man doesn't hide."
His first plan failing, Dave kindly offered to set the game warden hopelessly astray, to steal his horse, and finally, as a last resort, to murder the unsuspecting officer in a variety of ingenious ways. But Mr. Black declined all these kindly offers and finally convinced Dave that he didn't mind going to Lakeville, with a good fish supper inside of him.
The castaways found Mr. Saunders in possession of the camp at Pete's Patch. He had whittled a shingle doll for Rosa Marie, who sat in rapt devotion at his feet.
"She hasn't taken her eyes off me since I arrived, three hours ago," declared Saunders, rising to hand some papers to Mr. Black. "She's immensely taken with either my auburn hair or my new tan shoes—I don't know which. I didn't know, Mr. Black, what you wanted done about this insurance matter, so I brought the letters to you."
"Mighty glad to see you," returned Mr. Black, "for I'm going to town to-night. You'll have to stay here till I get back and be a father to my family. I'm under arrest for breaking the game laws—but wait till you see what I broke 'em with. Those fish——"
"Any news from Pittsburg?" interrupted Mrs. Crane.
"Not a word. But I've brought letters for all those girls. Their mothers, aunts, and so forth want to know how they're going to get them ready to go away to school next fall if you keep them in the woods all summer. They want to make clothes for them."
"It isn't polite," giggled lively Henrietta, "to answer letters the moment you get them. And anyhow, who wants clothes?"
"There's just one thing that we do want," said Mrs. Crane, "and that's news for our Billy-boy. He's so uneasy that he can't rest. In fact, we're all uneasy—in a state of suspense——"